


I'll Carry You

by greg-the-di (luvsev)



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8286515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvsev/pseuds/greg-the-di
Summary: Kommissar is singing a favorite tune on her own, a love song that's meant for a duet, when a familiar voice floats in through the open window to sing another verse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The characters don't belong to me, neither does the song, I'll Cover You (it's from Rent, which I love with the passion of a thousand suns).

The heat rumbled through the radiators in the tiny one-bedroom apartment while Luisa pulled at her sweater, tugging up the too-long, oatmeal-colored sleeves as she leaned over to sniff at the pot of hearty stew simmering away on the stove. On cold, lonely nights, when she’s made far too much food for just herself to eat, she wishes for someone to share it with, even just a neighbor--but none of hers talk to each other. Most of her friends are coupled off and so happy; at 34, she feels like she’s missed her window for that happy, fulfilled life. While the stew continued to cook, she sat at the little table with its single bowl and spoon, looking at the vase of drooping pink flowers--a gift from her father she couldn’t bear to toss just yet. She rose to open the window a fraction to cool off her kitchen, then sang:

_Live in my house, I’ll be your shelter_  
Just pay me back with one thousand kisses  
Be my lover, and I’ll cover you 

_Open your door, I’ll be your tenant_  
Don’t got much baggage to lay at your feet  
But sweet kisses I’ve got to spare  
I’ll be there, and I’ll cover you 

Luisa paused for a moment when she heard a sweet voice drifting up from the street. She peered out her window, past the falling snow and ice-covered trees to a woman in a dark, woolen coat. The woman sang as she shuffled her feet in the snow: 

_I think they meant it, when they said you can’t buy love_  
Now I know you can rent it,  
a new lease you are, my love,  
On my life, be my life 

Luisa sang another line and watched to see if the woman would join her, and she did: 

_Just slip me on, I’ll be your blanket  
Whenever, wherever, I’ll be your coat_

She listened intently, thinking the woman’s voice sounded so familiar; surely, she had to know it from somewhere, didn’t she? Maybe a record? 

_You’ll be my king, and I’ll be your castle_

Luisa answered, with a hint of laughter in her voice: 

_No, you be my queen, and I’ll be your moat_

The woman from the street stopped singing and laughed merrily. Luisa recognised it then, she’d know that hint of sarcasm in the tinkling laughter anywhere. The Maus. She turned off the stew then hurried out of her apartment door in her sock feet. By the time she reached the bottom floor and the wintery air outside, Beca has made a little progress down the street, still singing. 

“Maus? Beca, I mean?” Luisa called from the top of the steps, a shiver from the cold seeping into her bones.

Beca stopped in her tracks and fully turned to face Luisa, her cheeks rosy from the blustery wind. Snow clung to her hair and gathered in little flakes on the red-and-navy-blue flannel scarf bunched around her neck and shoulders. Luisa thought she was the most beautiful and welcome sight in the world.

Beca hurried as carefully as she could, avoiding several patches of ice on the sidewalk. “Of all the people in all the world, I run into you without meaning to,” she said, gazing up at Luisa from the step below her. 

Luisa extended her hand and brushed the hair off the girl’s freezing, pink cheek, then tucked it behind her ear. “You don’t sound disappointed.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Do you have somewhere to be, Maus? I’ve made dinner--there’s enough for two--if you would join me?” Luisa said softly, hopefully.

Beca said, not really as a response, “Our voices sound good together, you know?” 

“I wondered if they might.” 

“You thought about me?” 

Luisa touched her cheek again, this time cupping it. “More than you know.” 

Beca turned her face a fraction to brush her lips across Luisa’s cool palm, pressing a tiny kiss to the soft skin. “Still so soft. Do you moisturize with angel tears or something?” 

Luisa gave a happy sigh and stepped aside to allow Beca past her into the warmth of the old building. “Something like that, Maus, something like that.”


End file.
